


A Very Peri New Year

by DizzIzzi



Series: Fire Emblem IF: Fates Rewoven [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Babies, Dancing, Daydreaming, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, New Year's Eve, No Smut, Romance, a bit steamy but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzIzzi/pseuds/DizzIzzi
Summary: After a long day of trials and tribulations Peri finally has some time to relax, but wherever could her husband have gotten to?A cold winter's night filled with warmth.





	A Very Peri New Year

**Author's Note:**

> This is a brief side story connected to my larger work Fire Emblem IF: Fates Rewoven. As the first produced I wanted to explore a relationship I find adorable—that of Peri and Laslow. I LOVE Peri. Maybe it's the cool dyed hair or how into fighting she is or her sharp pointy teeth but I love her as a character and the intricacies that come with her. Out of all of the romantic supports in the game I prefer the one with Laslow the most. I find them cute together especially as Peri mellows(a little, we can't have her go too far "out of type" now can we) over the arc and having Peri be Soleil's mom is pretty hilarious.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

  Snow fell outside the curtained window, the steady drifts of winter indication of the chill pervading the city.  She sits in her armchair—close to the fire’s chuckle—weaving her hands through her knitting and a tune dancing on her lips.  Over-under, over-under her needle brings into existence the delicate pattern from her mind. 

_       It will be beautiful.  _

  Her day had been long, tedious and terrifying in the best possible way—all she wanted now was to relax before her husband arrives.  It was nice, this domesticity, a good change of pace from serving her Liege. No servants, no duties, no obligations other than to her family…   _ Bliss _ .  He was late, as usual, helping Lord Xander in his office or something.  She grins at the thought, brushing some dyed locks behind her hair, before picking her work back up.  Strands begin to turn into arms; a torso takes form below the high neckline of the sweater. Her design is coming along nicely.

  She’s humming—the tune is her favorite, the one her husband sang on their wedding day over a year ago.  In her mind he’s dancing—sensual and vivacious and full of the life she so loves about him—gyrating his belly and hips as he approaches his bride-to-be.  It’s an ancient custom from his far-off homeland, a ritual of binding passed down from mother to daughter—all the way to him. She loves that he can dance, that until meeting him she never saw the point in it but how his every move—every pirouette and lunge and thrust and wave of his silver-grey hair—was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on.  She had wanted him the moment she saw him fight.

  He’s taken her in his arms, lithe and strong from a lifetime of suffering, and sweeps her off her feet.  She’s caught up in the momentum of his footwork, gliding through the steps that seem to tie her heart to his with its blood-red strings.  He is their drum and singer breathing the words to his ancestral song as the tap and ring of his bells dictate the hammering in her chest.  Skin on skin the couple entwine as the crowd cheers, the couple’s climax matching the ceremony. Now they are one—now they have pronounced themselves husband and wife.  A sigh of bliss breaths out between her teeth.

      “Something wrong my sweet?”

 

  His voice!  Tender lips caress her flushed cheek as her head jerks up.  Twinkling brown eyes cover up her surroundings as her husband and lover gazes at her with overworked affection.  His ray of sunshine meeting hers as the shadows around his eyes fade behind its brilliance. She finally finds her voice “No Las was just thinkin!”  She meets his lips with her eager ones “How was it after we left?” He sighs

      “He’s still at it I’m afraid.  Apparently, the survey of aquifers the length and breadth of the kingdom needed his  _ personal _ attention…  He dismissed me for the night before I collapsed somewhere not with you my Love.”

           Her eyes roll “Jeez!  Lord Xander works waaay too hard.  He needs a vacation— like we did!”

     “Darling”  Laslow’s eyes his wife “that’s called a Honeymoon.  It’s something you do when you get married—you don’t take one just because.”  “Hehe I knew that silly, why do you think I suggested it?!”

 

  He pauses, blinks at his wife as her words process through his overworked brain.  Eyes widen as a chuckle escaped his lips “You are so weird my Love.” They brush her forehead like a scarf upon kissing the floor—her long cotton-candy hair pooling around her face.

      “No I’m not!  Lord Xander needs a wife.  If he had one he’d never feel down!”  She brushes his stubble-rough face “Having you’s been the best thing I could ever think of Las, I want him to feel the same.”

 

  Her husband breaks out laughing and nuzzles her in a loving hug “Oh my dear Peri you are the sweetest!”  She reciprocates, kissing his cheek as her knitting drops to the floor, and is swept up in a flurry of motions.  She’s in his arms—like her daydream-recollection but infinitely better—as he laughs and giggles her a tune for two.  They’re dancing, caught up in the moment, flying across the compact sitting room on carpeted feet and it’s everything and more.  His tender smile, his cute hair, his mischievous eyes, his strong back, his hand on her waist as he pulls her closer to his fast-beating chest.

  She loves him.  She loves him; she loves him she-loves-him!  Giddy hands twirl him around her supple frame only to be given the same treatment as he comes around and lifts her bodily off the floor.  She laughs—so lost in their dance as to never come out—and her lips move with the tune to grab his. They lock in a passionate embrace in the cold winter’s night, swaying in time to the synchronized drum’s in each of their hearts.  Their every move is passion—every cell of their body clamoring to melt into one entity.

  How she lived without him before is a mystery  _ How had my life gone on for so many years without this piece of it?  _  Her head in the crook of his neck and his hand brushing down her spine and the pumping of his blood makes her keen.  She wants him—always wants him—his cute blushing attempts at flirting and the way every moment is a dance and right now it’s just for her.  She needs him as much as he needs her. She’s pulling him to bed now urgency making her muscles jitter and his quake. He kisses her in spots that he knows drive her wild as her hands comb through his mess of hair and her sharp teeth bring the scent of blood from her lower lip, intoxicated.  Both are beyond ready.

  A cry from the bedroom, a voice calling out for aid in the night.  He jumps, danger sensed and his limbs aching to defend the child from the horrors of the dark, angry abyss.  She holds him, strong arms tethering him back to reality. He’s calm finally—after agonizing moments of panic and terror.  They separate and a knowing grimace spreads across each lust-filled face. Duty before pleasure, as always. Hand in hand they waltz into the bedroom—shades of pitch behind the thick curtains.  Next to the bed is a crib, intricate woodwork that rocks slightly on an axis, the growing cries of desperation emanating from within.

  She’s all mother now, cooing and warbling in the language of mothers, and her hands reach deep within to comfort their precious daughter.  “Shhhhh” Her voice the tone of velvet “Mommy and Daddy are here, it’s ok…” She rocks the adorable infant in her arms as Laslow moves his hands around her waist and lays his head next to hers.  Barely six months old she was always beautiful and growing more so as the weeks went by.  Downy shock of pink hair so unlike her father’s original brown or her mother’s natural black, Laslow says it’s his mother’s hair.  Her face, scrunched up into the cutest of shrieking pouts, was normally the cause of permanent smiles on her family’s faces. Her green and brown eyes the colors of the Spring she was born in.

  She holds her close—protective, safe and warm—as her father picks up the lullaby he wrote just for her.  The parent’s sing—her husky, teething mezzo-soprano mixing with his lilting, foreign tenor.

_    “...Hush little sunshine don’t say a word Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass.   _

_ And if that looking glass is broke, Mama's gonna buy you a rocking horse.  _

_ And if that rocking horse is lame…” _

 

  Their precious Soleil falls asleep nestled between their chests on the bed made for three—the cold of the New Year incapable of reaching their tight-knit ball of warmth.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have a poll for ya'll!
> 
> I would like to get a recommendation about the next short story to write:
> 
> -1.) A fic about Laslow, Selena and Odin sitting down as their young kids play together.
> 
> -2.) A Fluff piece about how Hinoka got asked out by her sweety (hint, it will involve involuntary skydiving)
> 
> -3.) A piece about Kaden and Setsuna hunting together and discovering a semi-pleasant familial surprise (expect "The Most Dangerous Game" references).
> 
> -4.) The first part of a multi-chapter Drama/Romance story about Ryoma and Scarlet in the Resistance.
> 
> Thank you for the support!
> 
> Your author  
> -Izzi


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